The Star Bond
by Elf Knight
Summary: Elva tricks Eragon into forming a Soul Bond with her to get revenge. But she never expected something petty as romance to get in the way of her vengence. So when it does, will it help the odd couple? Or will it only make things worse between them? AU
1. Chapter 1: Awakening

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Inheritance Cycle!

**Author's Note:** This is a plot-bunny really and will probably not get to be more than one or two chapters, as I only thought of this so far. Still, I couldn't help but write it. I have to say though, that this was largely inspired by the many Soul Bond fanfics in the Harry Potter fandom and it just made perfect sense here. This might have been done before, parts anyways, so I apologise if it has been. So now without further ado, here is the said chapter!

**Chapter 1:** The Awakening

Greta hummed an old tune to herself as she stirred a simmering cauldron of stew. Meet was hard to come by thanks to the war, so all she had to use was vegetables and broth. Still, her charge did not mind the simple soup as she got ravenously hungry at all times. Any food was good enough for her although she preferred meet.

Greta shuddered slightly, at the mental image of a five-year-old with the eyes of a grown woman stuffing her face with chicken legs. However, that could not be undone. It had come about quite by accident when Eragon Shadeslayer, a Dragon Rider, had blessed the girl when she was a babe.

He had used the Ancient Language, a language supposedly used for wielding magic, but had not been quite so adept at casting spells as he thought he was. Greta herself had beseeched the Rider to bless the orphan child whose parents were killed in the Battle of Farthen Dur, and the crowd of onlookers had taken up her call.

So Eragon had cast a spell using his magic on the child and his azure dragon had somehow used Dragon Magic to form an enchanting star tattoo on her forehead. However, the Rider had been young and did not word the spell properly – or so he said – causing the girl to grow rapidly and eat more than normal.

Her eyes were a stunning violet and she spoke with the voice of a woman, and was as smart as one too. She could feel people's pain and the magic forced her to do whatever she could to stop it. Finally, the Rider was able to heal her but only partially because Elva – in her anger at all the pain she experienced from the curse – stopped him from taking all of the spell away.

Now she had part of it, the important part, but was no longer forced to act when she felt pain. She could use this gift now to her own betterment and had severed her ties with the Varden much to Nasuada's horror, and Angela's anger. Elva had run away for three days and was gone until she stumbled back reluctantly to Greta for food. So here she was, cooking for her young charge again like time's past.

At last, the stew was done so she put out the fire and poured some in a wooden bowl. Setting the bowl in front of the window in the small room they lived in to cool, Greta let out a sigh. Stretching her weary limbs, she smoothed down the wrinkles of her dress and strode over to Elva's 'room'. It wasn't a room, really. Rather it was a thick curtain that surrounded her bed giving her some privacy.

This room was one of the many now-vacant ones left over in the City of Feinster that the Varden had just captured. Seemingly exhausted, Elva had collapsed on her old bed first thing and closed the curtain. Taking a deep breath, Greta crossed the floor space to the bed and pulled back the curtain gingerly. Thunder rumbled suddenly and a flash of lighting illuminated a most shocking sight.

X~X~X~X~X~X

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Angela awoke with a start and stared into the darkness, bleary eyed and a tad bit disoriented. Cursing, she clambered out of bed and slipped a dark cloak over her sleeping gown. Fumbling with two flint stones, she hastily lit a candle and held it high as she was able hobbling over to the front door.

She was always cranky when woken early and now it was far worse being well past midnight. Still, no one would dare wake her unless something was very, very wrong and they needed her help. Reluctantly, she realised that there was only one problem case in the world that could have gotten that bad – Elva.

The witch child had gone from bad to worse ever since Eragon 'blessed' her and it was a miracle she survived the attack of the Laughing Dead. Then she ran away only to come shuffling back for more food.

_Dratted girl,_ Angela fumed. _Just how am I supposed to take care of you if you shun everyone around you who can possibly provide you with assistance?_

Grumbling at the annoying prat, Angela finally reached the door and creaked it open peering through the crack into the night.

"Who goes there?" She croaked.

"It's me, Greta," A shaking female voice answered.

_Perfect,_ Angela groaned _Just what I needed. Another problem._

"Are you alone?" The herbalist demanded.

"Yes," Greta replied timidly.

"Then get in here, woman," Angela barked, feeling extra frustrated at being awoken at this late hour for a brat. "What's wrong?"

She waited impatiently, while Greta stumbled into the room. It was only when Angela held the candle closer that she noticed, to her alarm, that the caretaker's eyes were bloodshot and wild. Her skin was deathly pale and she looked like she had just seen a ghost or worse.

"What happened?" Angela asked.

"It's Elva," Greta babbled. "She...she's grown! I gave her food, but she was sleeping. She was thrashing wildly and her eyes were open yet unseeing while she slept. She was calling for Eragon incoherently. She needs help."

When everything registered fully, Angela cracked a smile.

_Has my little girl had her first wet dream? _She thought gleefully, almost letting out a cackle.

Sadly, she could not frighten Greta. The poor woman was too distraught as it was. Angela had to take a deep breath to calm herself and turned to the fearful and worried caretaker.

"Take me to her," She said.

This was going to be fun!

Nodding worriedly, Greta hobbled out of the room and stumbled through the maze of back alleys followed closely by Angela. The two women wound their way through Feinster. A wolf howled in the distance sending chills down Angela's spine, but she shook it off and focused on Elva. Finally, they arrived at Elva and Greta's home. The caretaker opened the door swiftly and hurried over to Elva's bed, drawing back the curtain.

Angela braced herself but she could not stifle the gasp that lurched out of her on its own accord when she saw Elva. She did not believe it at first, but the witch-child had indeed grown. She sat wearily on her bed, hugging her knees to her chest and panting for breath. Sweat rolled off her and her eyes looked tired. But that was not the scary thing, the shock was that she now looked like a young and beautiful woman.

Dark brown hair cascaded down her back, contrasting sharply with her pale white skin. The star symbol on her forehead shone with an ethereal glow and the clothes she wore looked much too small for her. Startled and caught completely by surprise, Angela took a step back wondering what the devil would happen next. The uneasy silence was broken by Elva's voice which actually suited her new form.

"Hello, Angela," She said weakly, with a faint smile. "I've grown haven't I?"

"Yes, indeed," Angela said thickly, her eyes wide as saucers. "How did it happen?"

"I do not know all the details," Elva said. "But after Eragon 'healed' me and you cast that spell I began to feel strange. I felt hot and cold at the same time, starving yet full. I was tired and week yet bursting with energy. I was angry and sad and happy all at once. Driven mad by these emotions, I ran wherever my legs would take me not caring whether I went. The next three days passed in a blur until I finally stopped on a rugged cliff overlooking the sea."

"What happened then?" Angela breathed, hushed by Elva's serene voice.

"I saw the oddest vision of a cripple elf lord on a crippled dragon," Elva replied. "He was dressed in robes of white and his dragon was a shining gold. The elf lord told me they were dead and had a message for Eragon. He told Eragon not to feel guilty for their deaths but to push on and persevere in his quest to defeat the Mad King. Then he told me..."

Elva's voice hitched and she shuddered visibly as if utterly afraid.

"What?" Angela asked, feeling unusually excited. "What did he say?"

A glance out of the corner of her eye told her that Greta too was enthralled by the strange tale.

"He said that I was Bonded, Angela," Elva whispered in a strained voice.

"Bonded?" Angela snapped, realisation crashing down upon her.

"Yes," Elva spat. "He said I now share a Soul Bond to a Dragon Rider – Eragon Shadeslayer."

**A/N:** Dun-dun-dun! *cue dramatic music* So how was that? For now it's just a one-shot, drabble, plot-bunny, thing as I don't really have anything else planned. But I might get struck by a brilliant flash of inspiration and write more chapters in the near future. Also, more updates all depend on your reviews. Is this idea any good? And how about the writing? Are the characters too OOC?

Just to clear some stuff up, this is strictly ElvaXEragon. Arya might die but she'll probably just go back to the elves after the war since she is really, really old and told him countless times to get a girl his own age. Plus, I thought a love-hate relationship would be kind of cute and interesting between Elva and Eragon. Not to mention that both their names start with an "E" if that means anything, and that a Soul Bond – if it would happen at all – would be most likely to happen here.

Any thoughts?

P.S. I don't remember what Elva looked like so I improvised after seeing a fan-drawn picture of her and Nasuada. Do correct me if I'm wrong though.


	2. Chapter 2: Magic Bound

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Inheritance Cycle!

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the long delay, but this idea was just that – an idea otherwise called a plot-bunny. I didn't have any ideas for future chapters but I got some now and this might even evolve into a different version of Book 4 since the real one left me rather disappointed and unfulfilled. Also, do take note that the pairing of this story is ElvaXEragon. Since there are so many AxE stories, I decided to try something new for a change. Hopefully, it won't be too painful to read and possibly enjoyable even. So without any further ado, I present you with the next instalment of "The Star Bond"!

**Chapter 2:** Magic Bound

Eragon bolted into a sitting position, his hard-earned experience kicking in propelling him into action. Woken up unexpectedly caused him to unsheathe his sword in one fluid move and point it at the neck of the startled intruder.

"Whoa, there lover boy!" A female voice chuckled in obvious amusement. "I know you're eager, but your _sword_ is pointing to the wrong person."

Eragon's eyebrows shot upwards as he recognized the mischievous voice.

"_Angela?_" The Dragon Rider exclaimed incredulously. "What in the Empire are you doing here?"

"I am here to help you rid the Empire of its tyrant," Angela said primly, smoothing down the non-existent wrinkles of his dress.

Without asking him, she sat down on the side of his bed and glanced over appraisingly at his bare chest. He was sleeping fitfully in his tent, his dreams haunted by glares and wails of men he killed, when Angela showed up.

It was the night after the Battle for Feinster and he was exhausted. Being a Dragon Rider, he was far more powerful than a normal spell-caster and equal, if not stronger, than an elf. Thus, he was required to help put out fires that ravaged the blood-stained city.

He also helped Arya, the elves, and human spell-casters heal wounded soldiers and a few unlucky citizens who got caught in the crossfire. Eventually, he managed to escape from the aftermath of the battle and fell asleep instantly as soon as he collapsed on his cot. Sadly, his dreams were not pleasant so he got no rest from his slumber.

Therefore, he was bleary-eyed and cranky when he got woken up and that only increased by the unexpected presence of the curious and slightly eccentric witch. Eragon knew she intended him no harm even without what she had just told him, but he was frustrated at not being granted a moment of peace.

_Saphira?_ Eragon asked wearily. _What should I tell the herbalist?_

There was silence for a moment and Eragon almost thought that his beautiful she-dragon was too tired to hear him. Thankfully, she responded minutes later her voice equally tired as him.

_I do not know, Little One,_ Saphira replied in a perplexed-sounding voice. _However, Angela has never bore any ill-will towards us in the past. She has proved most valuable and has even predicted your future._

Eragon snorted derisively at the last comment. He didn't believe in prophecy and did not think that the future was set in stone. Regardless, Eragon had been betrayed as Angela predicted but that was only natural to expect considering who he was and what he did. Heaving a sigh, he glanced warily at Angela who stared back into his eyes with an unreadable expression.

_Very well,_ Eragon relented. _I shall hear what she has to say, but that does not mean I must agree to it._

_Agreed, Little One,_ Saphira answered. _Now, if you do not mind I wish to catch up on some more sleep. If there is nothing else of importance, I shall see you tomorrow morning._

_Alright, Saphira,_ Eragon said with the ghost of a smile. _Sweet dreams._

And with that, Saphira closed off her connection but Eragon knew she would wake up in seconds should he be even in the fraction of danger. But he did not need her help now and she needed her sleep more than him due to all the flying and carrying she had done of late. Eragon was tired but who was he to say no to the mysterious and enigmatic Angela?

"Okay, herbalist," Eragon said wearily. "Tell me what you must but this better be good. I have a short temper when I'm exhausted."

"Rightly so," Angela said sagely, nodding her head.

Eragon just rolled his eyes at her antics and pulled himself up into a sitting position. Folding his arms across his chest, he took a deep breath and waited for the witch to speak. It was a few uneasy moments before she did so.

"Do you recall the child you cursed?" Angela asked with some steel in her voice.

Eragon gulped at the suppressed memory and feigned innocence.

"You mean the child I _blessed_?" Eragon asked uneasily.

"Cursed," Angela said with an eerie glint in her eyes.

Eragon was unable to suppress a shudder and tore his gaze away from the confusing witch. What was she going on about now?

"Yes, I remember her," The Dragon Rider relented. "What of her?"

"She has grown," Angela replied as if that would explain it all.

"Obviously," Eragon drawled. "I saw her growth spurt. She is of an unnatural size for her age."

"Not anymore," Angela retorted, with a sly grin.

"Oh?" Eragon asked, arching an eyebrow curiously.

"For some odd reason," Angela explained. "Elva's age sped up to match her growth. Her body was getting too big for her mental-state of mind. So the only thing I can think of is that her age was forced to grow beyond its normal rate to catch up with the girl's body."

"That's...good, I suppose," Eragon said cautiously, unsure of where this was going.

"But that's not all," Angela said, concern evident in her voice. "Elva has grown rapidly, Shadeslayer. She has grown much more than before. She is now the size of one ten and six years of age, possibly older."

"What?" Eragon asked in disbelief. "How is that possible?"

"Don't ask me!" Angela snapped, glaring daggers at him. "The curse was your brilliant idea."

Eragon breathed a deep sigh and clenched his fists to calm himself.

"Look," He said slowly and evenly. "I did all I could but she does not want me to reverse the spell. If there was anything I could to help the poor girl, I would. Trust me."

"Perhaps there is," Angela murmured with a faraway look in her eyes.

Eragon struggled to subdue the sinking feeling of dread that welled up within him. There was a touch of foreboding in her tone and he did not like this conversation one bit. Sadly, he was unable to back out now. If he could find away to fix Elva then he was obliged to.

He owed her that. Hells, he owed her ten times more then he'd ever be able to repay. The poor girl's life was lost in a haze of pain and misery as she was haunted by that of all the Varden and others rather like Eragon himself actually albeit in a different way.

"What must I do?" Eragon asked reluctantly.

"Follow me," Angela said with a twinkle in her eye.

Eragon stifled a shudder and nodded his head. Angela stood up imperiously and strode towards the door of the tent he slept in, pausing and glancing over her shoulder. Eragon sighed and pulled himself out of his cot. Throwing a cloak over him, he grabbed his sword and slung the sword-belt over his shoulder.

"After you," Eragon said in mock politeness.

Angela gave him a feral grin in return making Eragon feel seriously wary. Departing from his tent, he informed the elf guards who were still awake to watch over his things and inform Saphira where he went (before telling them of his intended location) in case she woke up and got worried.

The elves begrudgingly agreed but two insisted on trailing him. Eragon had no choice but to let them, seeing as they were his bodyguards and tagged along for a purpose. And so the odd party of two spear-wielding elves, one gaudy-dressed witch, and a cloaked Dragon Rider set forth. The gathering wound their way through the twists and turns of Feinster.

Probably due to his Dragon Rider-ness, Eragon hated sleeping surrounded by walls and a ceiling so he had slept in a tent in one of the main town squares. His guards remained behind to watch over it in his absences and the Shadeslayer rubbed his sleep-filled eyes, yawning as he followed Angela.

After what seemed like an eternity, Angela arrived at a small one-story house crammed in with a dozen identical others. Rapping thrice on the door, she paused and carried out the sequence again before waiting once more and knocking twice. Eragon merely arched an eyebrow at her seeming code, but remained silent knowing that Angela guarded her secrets jealously.

A few uncomfortable moments later, the door creaked open revealing a dimly lit and stuffy room. It had only one window through which moonlight filtered through. A single bed was stuffed into a corner blocked by curtains that were open. There was a desk on the same wall in between the bed and the left corner of the room. It was stacked with parchment and an ink pot, and quill.

A small trunk probably filled with clothes and other meagre possessions was tucked away into the corner to Eragon's right and a tall mirror graced the last corner. But none of these things occupied Eragon's attention more than the girl, no – young woman really, who sat on regally on the bed. She was only a couple heads shorter than him, but her height did not disguise her age.

Elva had clearly grown. Her childlike proportions had been taken over by womanly curves and an hourglass figure. Her jet black hair had a silky shine although it was matted and tangled, falling over her shoulders and down her...ample chest, well visible through the sheer nightgown she wore. She was drenched in sweat and the Gedwëy Ignasia gleamed eerily on her forehead, making Eragon's skin crawl.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion as Elva slowly drew up her head, revealing her startlingly-violet eyes flashing with hatred and rage. Eragon tried to take a step back but found himself rooted to the ground, unable to move. Chills raced down his spine as an alien presence, Elva's mind, crashed into his mental force field shattering them in seconds before he could properly put them up.

Eragon threw his head back and let out a cry of pain.

"Elva, no!" Angela cried but it was too late.

Instantly, the door swung shut and locked by unseen hands. Even the wooden shutters outside slammed shut throwing them all into darkness. The only light came from the rune on Elva's forehead, and the fierce glow of her sinister gaze. The elvish guards pounded on the door but it would not budge.

"Don't do this, child!" Angela pleaded desperately.

"Child?" Elva hissed.

With a wave of her hand, Angela was flung up against the wall choking as her lungs squeezed in around her windpipe. She did not fall down and remained on the wall, struggling to break free.

"Why are you doing this?" Eragon asked, struggling to stay calm.

"Why?" Elva snarled. "You ask why, _Curse Maker!_ I shall tell you why! For months I have been shunned and avoided. People hate me because of you and I hate them because of you. I hate their problems and their fears and their pain, their _pain. _No girl my age should have to go through with this not to mention aging abnormally. But no matter. I shall have my revenge."

"Revenge?" Eragon asked worriedly, his hand hovering over Brisingr.

"Yes," Elva said huskily, her eyes gleaming and licking her lips with glee. "My revenge, revenge that you shall help me accomplish."

"Wha?" Eragon stammered.

But whatever he was about to say died in his throat as he felt Elva take over his mind and propelling him into action.

"Place your hand on my forehead, _Shadeslayer,_" Elva sneered, spitting out the title with utter contempt. "Now!"

"Eragon, no!" Angela cried hoarsely. "Don't..."

But Eragon was unable to react as Elva somehow took over his mind and body. An otherworldly scream tore from his lips as he felt half of his body and half of his soul being ripped out of him and swallowed by an alien force. Pain lanced down his spine and sweat beaded his forehead. His hands trembled, causing his sword to fall harmlessly to the ground with a metallic clank.

As much as Eragon tried to resist, he was not able to stop Elva's power as the witch child forced him to walk towards her, although he really stumbled. Moving against his own will, his hand stretched forward. He felt like he was moving through slime. Eragon gasped as his palm with the Gedwëy Ignasia made contact with the Gedwëy Ignasia on Elva's forehead.

A strange mixture of excruciating pain and intoxicating pleasure shot through his body as the ancient symbols touched. Powerful, long lost magic kindled between them and flared into being with a brilliant flash of pale blue light, hailed by a deafening clap of thunder.

Hazy spots danced in Eragon's vision and even Elva looked a little put out. The Dragon Rider's hand fell away from Elva's sweaty forehead as Eragon collapsed to the ground. The last thing he saw before passing out from exhaustion was a gloating Elva standing over him, her lips curled up into a smirk of triumph.

And then, everything went black!

**To Be Continued...**

**A/N:** So, what do you think of this new update? Hopefully, it's not as choppy as the previous chapter and I hope that this proves rather fun and interesting. Comment your thoughts anyways even if you find it the worst thing in the world as any advice, suggestions, and feedback in general would be very much appreciated.

Thanks for reading!


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